- Authors
- Alcott, Louisa May
- Barrie, James M.
- Bronte, Anne
- Bronte, Charlotte
- Burroughs, Edgar Rice
- Carroll, Lewis
- Cather, Willa
- Collins, Wilkie
- Conrad, Joseph
- Cooper, James Fenimore
- Crane, Stephen
- de Balzac, Honoré
- Defoe, Daniel
- Dickens, Charles
- Dostoevsky, Fyodor
- Doyle, Arthur Conan
- Hawthorne, Nathaniel
- Huxley, Aldous
- Joyce, James
- Kafka, Franz
- Kipling, Rudyard
- Lawrence, D.H.
- London, Jack
- Melville, Herman
- Milton, John
- Nesbit, Edith
- Orwell, George
- Poe, Edgar Allan
- Pope, Alexander
- Rand, Ayn
- Shakespeare, William
- Shelley, Mary
- Stoker, Bram
- The Brothers Grimm
- Tolstoy, Leo
- Twain, Mark
- Verne, Jules
- An Antarctic Mystery
- Around the World in Eighty Days
- Dick Sand: A Captain At Fifteen
- Facing The Flag
- From the Earth to the Moon
- Journey to the Center of the Earth
- Preface
- Chapter 1 - The Professor and His Family
- Chapter 2 - A Mystery to be Solved at Any Price
- Chapter 3 - The Runic Writing Exercises The Professor
- Chapter 4 - The Enemy To Be Starved Into Submission
- Chapter 5 - Famine, Then Victory, Followed By Dismay
- Chapter 6 - Exciting Discussions About An Unparalleled Enterprise
- Chapter 7 - A Woman's Courage
- Chapter 8 - Serious Preparations For Vertical Descent
- Chapter 9 - Iceland! But What Next?
- Chapter 10 - Interesting Conversations With Icelandic Savants
- Chapter 11 - A Guide Found to the Centre of the Earth
- Chapter 12 - A Barren Land
- Chapter 13 - Hospitality Under The Arctic Circle
- Chapter 14 - But Arctics Can Be Inhospitable, Too
- Chapter 15 - Snæfell At Last
- Chapter 16 - Boldly Down The Crater
- Chapter 17 - Vertical Descent
- Chapter 18 - The Wonders of Terrestrial Depths
- Chapter 19 - Geological Studies In Situ
- Chapter 20 - The First Signs of Distress
- Chapter 21 - Compassion Fuses The Professor's Heart
- Chapter 22 - Total Failure of Water
- Chapter 23 - Water Discovered
- Chapter 24 - Well Said, Old Mole! Canst Thou Work I' The Ground So Fast?
- Chapter 25 - De Profundis
- Chapter 26 - The Worst Peril Of All
- Chapter 27 - Lost In The Bowels Of The Earth
- Chapter 28 - The Rescue In The Whispering Gallery
- Chapter 29 - Thalatta! Thalatta!
- Chapter 30 - A New Mare Internum
- Chapter 31 - Preparations For A Voyage Of Discovery
- Chapter 32 - Wonders Of The Deep
- Chapter 33 - A Battle Of Monsters
- Chapter 34 - The Great Geyser
- Chapter 35 - An Electric Storm
- Chapter 36 - Calm Philosophic Discussions
- Chapter 37 - The Liedenbrock Museum of Geology
- Chapter 38 - The Professor In His Chair Again
- Chapter 39 - Forest Scenery Illuminated By Electricity
- Chapter 40 - Preparations For Blasting A Passage To The Centre Of The Earth
- Chapter 41 - The Great Explosion And The Rush Down Below
- Chapter 42 - Headlong Speed Upward Through The Horrors Of Darkness
- Chapter 43 - Shot Out Of A Volcano At Last!
- Chapter 44 - Sunny Lands In The Blue Mediterranean
- Chapter 45 - All's Well That Ends Well
- Round The Moon
- The Adventures Of A Special Correspondent
- The Blockade Runners
- The Underground City
- Wells, H.G.
- Wilde, Oscar
- Woolf, Virginia
- GRE in English Literature
- About FictionClassics.com
Chapter 26 - The Worst Peril Of All
Submitted by Xangis on Sun, 08/03/2008 - 15:13.
It must be confessed that hitherto things had not gone on so badly, and that I had small reason to complain. If our difficulties became no worse, we might hope to reach our end. And to what a height of scientific glory we should then attain! I had become quite a Liedenbrock in my reasonings; seriously I had. But would this state of things last in the strange place we had come to? Perhaps it might.
For several days steeper inclines, some even frightfully near to the perpendicular, brought us deeper and deeper into the mass of the interior of the earth. Some days we advanced nearer to the centre by a league and a half, or nearly two leagues. These were perilous descents, in which the skill and marvelous coolness of Hans were invaluable to us. That unimpassioned Icelander devoted himself with incomprehensible deliberation; and, thanks to him, we crossed many a dangerous spot which we should never have cleared alone.
But his habit of silence gained upon him day by day, and was infecting us. External objects produce decided effects upon the brain. A man shut up between four walls soon loses the power to associate words and ideas together. How many prisoners in solitary confinement become idiots, if not mad, for want of exercise for the thinking faculty!
During the fortnight following our last conversation, no incident occurred worthy of being recorded. But I have good reason for remembering one very serious event which took place at this time, and of which I could scarcely now forget the smallest details.
By the 7th of August our successive descents had brought us to a depth of thirty leagues; that is, that for a space of thirty leagues there were over our heads solid beds of rock, ocean, continents, and towns. We must have been two hundred leagues from Iceland.
On that day the tunnel went down a gentle slope. I was ahead of the others. My uncle was carrying one of Ruhmkorff's lamps and I the other. I was examining the beds of granite.
Suddenly turning round I observed that I was alone.
Well, well, I thought; I have been going too fast, or Hans and my uncle have stopped on the way. Come, this won't do; I must join them. Fortunately there is not much of an ascent.
I retraced my steps. I walked for a quarter of an hour. I gazed into the darkness. I shouted. No reply: my voice was lost in the midst of the cavernous echoes which alone replied to my call.
I began to feel uneasy. A shudder ran through me.
"Calmly!" I said aloud to myself, "I am sure to find my companions again. There are not two roads. I was too far ahead. I will return!"
For half an hour I climbed up. I listened for a call, and in that dense atmosphere a voice could reach very far. But there was a dreary silence in all that long gallery. I stopped. I could not believe that I was lost. I was only bewildered for a time, not lost. I was sure I should find my way again.
"Come," I repeated, "since there is but one road, and they are on it, I must find them again. I have but to ascend still. Unless, indeed, missing me, and supposing me to be behind, they too should have gone back. But even in this case I have only to make the greater haste. I shall find them, I am sure."
I repeated these words in the fainter tones of a half-convinced man. Besides, to associate even such simple ideas with words, and reason with them, was a work of time.
A doubt then seized upon me. Was I indeed in advance when we became separated? Yes, to be sure I was. Hans was after me, preceding my uncle. He had even stopped for a while to strap his baggage better over his shoulders. I could remember this little incident. It was at that very moment that I must have gone on.
Besides, I thought, have not I a guarantee that I shall not lose my way, a clue in the labyrinth, that cannot be broken, my faithful stream? I have but to trace it back, and I must come upon them.
This conclusion revived my spirits, and I resolved to resume my march without loss of time.
How I then blessed my uncle's foresight in preventing the hunter from stopping up the hole in the granite. This beneficent spring, after having satisfied our thirst on the road, would now be my guide among the windings of the terrestrial crust.
Before starting afresh I thought a wash would do me good. I stooped to bathe my face in the Hansbach.
To my stupefaction and utter dismay my feet trod only - the rough dry granite. The stream was no longer at my feet.
